


Heart Lines

by nuricurry



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuricurry/pseuds/nuricurry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I looked at you and knew. You were the only thing that mattered, there was no one for me but you." Collection of Ikki/Esmeralda-centric oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harmony Street

**Harmony Street**

The first time he saw her she was chasing chickens, clapping loudly and herding them along the dirt road. He watched her from his spot on the fence, unable to hold back a laugh as one darted between her legs, flipping her skirt up as it ran for the grass.

"Don't laugh!" she called to him.

"Why not?" he teased.

She coaxed the chicken back onto the road, returning it to the flock before beginning to slowly lead them forward again. He slid off the fence, grabbing a handful of tall weeds from beside a post before walking over to the road.

"Here," he said, handing her a piece of grass, "Use this to keep them in line. Watch," he took one of his own, using it to keep the chickens in a group, patting and nudging them with the grass when they tried to break apart.

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled, taking the opposite side of the flock and doing the same. "Thank you," she said as they guided them along, "Do you have chickens at your home?"

"My master has some," he nodded, and she tilted her head.

"Who is your master?"

"Guilty."

Her eyes widened, and he could see the fear in them. He wasn't surprised; reputations got around fast on such a small island. "Guilty is your master? What is he teaching you?"

"He's going to help me become a Saint," he explained, "I'm going to be the Phoenix, and then I'm going to go home and find my brother."

She looked down at the road, absently flicking a stray chicken with her weed. "Will you…become like him?"

"No," he shook his head, "Saints aren't supposed to hurt people."

She smiled a bit then, before reaching over and taking his stalk. He blinked at her, and she laughed. "Thank you. I have to go home, and my master won't like it if he sees you, I'm sorry. But thank you again!"

"Yeah," he smiled back a bit, stepping aside to let her lead the chickens on, "Bye."

He watched her herd the chickens until she disappeared over the hill, before he turned back towards Guilty's compound.


	2. Barricade

**Barricade**

The second time he saw her, she was picking flowers in the valley, using her skirt as a sling as she filled it with blossoms.

"What are you doing this far from the village?" he asked, and she jumped at his call. She turned and he saw the bruise on her cheek, and his eyebrows came together. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," she said, turning back to the flowers, "This is the only place these grow."

He walked over to her quickly, leaning in to see her face, and she tried to turn away. "It's not right for someone to hit you. Who did it?"

"You have bruises too," she pointed out, finally meeting his eyes, "Guilty did that, didn't he?" she asked, indicating to his poorly bandaged arm.

"That's different," he protested, "I'm training. You're just a girl."

She bit her lip, and after a moment dropped the hem of her skirt, the flowers falling onto the grass in a waterfall of petals. "Your dressing will come of, let me see." He flushed a bit and held out his arm. She reached out, gently undoing the clumsy knot before slipping the wrapping off. She tied it again quickly, the bandage tight and neat. "There."

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, and she knelt down, collecting the flowers again. He dropped down beside her, resting his hands on his knees and simply watching her. "What's your name?"

"Esmeralda," she smiled a bit, sitting as well. She began to knot the flowers into a chain, and he noticed her nails were torn and crusted with blood. He frowned, and took the flowers from her.

"Let me," he instructed firmly, fumbling to weave the stems, "I'm Ikki."

"That's a nice name," she complimented, and he smiled a bit. "You should make sure they're not too tight, or the chain will break," she told him gently, and he nodded.

"Here," he said, placing a halo of blossoms onto her hair, "You're pretty." The words came out sounding strange, and he couldn't help the blush.

She blinked, then laughed, leaning over to lightly peck his cheek. "Thank you."


	3. No One For Me But You

**No One For Me But You**

He'd seen her so many times he had lost count. They'd meet each other when she was sent out to do chores and he was dismissed from training. She'd clean the blood off his hands and he'd pick the glass out of her hair, then they sit together because they weren't ready to leave. Sometimes she would sing, other times they would talk, but often they just sat beside each other in silence, not needing to say much at all.

She was drawing pictures in the dirt, the twig she held etching crude figures and shapes. He spoke up after awhile, curious.

"What are you drawing?"

"It's from a story my mother told me when I was little," she said, "It's about a boy prince who has to complete three tasks in order to win the princess." She scooted a bit closer, before pointing to the first picture, "First he has to find the magic sword, which is guarded by a wizard who tells riddles," she moved onto her next drawing, and he leaned in a bit to see it better, "Then he has to go through a labyrinth to get the key to the castle. A-After that," she stuttered, and when he looked at her she was blushing, "After that, he has to fight the dragon."

"Does he win?" he asked, and she blinked.

"Yes. It's a fairy tale, it's supposed to end happy."

"Not everything has a happy ending," he pointed out, and she looked down at the dirt.

"Maybe...it's just a matter of perspective," she tried a smile.

"A-Ah, maybe," he shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide his own blush. She laughed, and he frowned at her. "What?"

"You know," she tilted her head a bit, unable to hold back another giggle, "You're face is funny when you're embarrassed."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he scowled, and she suddenly laughed again, "Are you saying I look funny?"

"I like the way you look," she said simply, then seemed to realize what she said. She looked back at the ground, her hair falling over her shoulder as she hid her face behind it. "I mean, you're..."

"U-Uh, thanks," he said for lack of anything better to say, and he looked away, flustered.

He felt her move and her knee bumped lightly against his. He turned back to face her and she smiled. He didn't know why he moved but all of a sudden he kissed her and she stared at him wide eyed.

"I-I better go," he stood up quickly, and stumbled as he scurried away, too afraid to look back.


	4. For Everything That Mattered

**For Everything That Mattered**

When he woke up to her cleaning the blood off of the wound in his side, he simply stared at her in the dim light of the cellar. She seemed to finally notice he was awake after a moment, and smiled at him.

"I was worried, so I came to see you. I'm glad I did."

"Did Guilty see you?" She shook her head quickly, and he could tell that she had made sure of that. He had warned her about it before, and he relaxed a bit, relieved she had listened. "Good."

"Can you sit up a bit?" she requested, and he moved, biting back a hiss of pain. She quickly wrapped the bandages around his torso, and he muttered his thanks. She nodded her head, and when she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, he saw the splint on her hand.

"What happened?" he asked angrily. She looked away and held her hand close to her chest.

"My master found out I was coming to see you during chores," she explained softly.

"Then you shouldn't be here," he pressed, taking her hand gently to inspect it. "He broke your fingers."

"He could break my arm, or my leg, and I would still come see you, even if I had to crawl" she looked at him, "Because…you're the only one here who cares."

"Then you should leave," he urged her, "I'm sure you'll find somewhere else where people will care about you and take care of you."

"But then who will you have?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, jeez."

"Guilty wouldn't clean your wounds," she pointed out, "and you can't bandage yourself well at all."

"I'd practice," he argued weakly.

"Are you saying you don't want me here?" her face fell, and he quickly corrected himself.

"I don't want you here if it means you keep getting hurt. I hate seeing you with black eyes and broken fingers."

"I don't want you to get hurt either," she looked down at her lap, "I don't like seeing you like this either."

"I can't leave, not yet," he told her, and her eyes rose to meet his.

"When you can, will you take me with you?" her voice was soft, and he could tell she was afraid of the answer.

"Yeah," he nodded, and she suddenly burst into tears, "H-Hey, don't cry!"

"I'm sorry," she wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks, "Thank you. I'm sorry."

"Girls shouldn't cry," he tried to comfort her, "They're prettier when they smile." She looked at him, bewildered, and he pulled a face, suddenly making her laugh. "See?"

"You're right," she smiled, shyly scooting closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'll remember that."


	5. I Looked at You and Knew

**I Looked at You and Knew**

The day he turned thirteen, she brought him half of her meager dinner and a shirt she had mended for him. They sat in the usual valley, sharing the bread and cheese as he wore the shirt and she sang him 'Happy Birthday'.

"You didn't have to do anything," he told her, resting his arms on his knees and letting her finish the food, guilty about taking any of it at all with her wrists so thin.

"I wanted to," she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. The sunset behind her colored the strands a warm orange, and he couldn't help but call her pretty. She laughed, and took his hand, lacing their fingers together as she looked out towards the flowers.

"What do you want?" he asked, and she turned to blink at him in confusion, "For your birthday," he explained, "It's soon."

"Oh," she shrugged, "Nothing really."

"There has to be something," he pressed, "Everyone wants something."

She squeezed his hand, and shook her head, "Not me. I'm fine, just like this."

He looked down at their hands, and after a moment he let go, and stood up. She looked at him, hurt, before he realized what she thought. "No, sorry! Wait, I want to..." He looked around quickly a moment before stumbling over to a patch of flowers, glancing at them quickly before picking the one that looked the best. He quickly went back to her, sitting down and grabbing her hand again. "I didn't mean that like it looked," he explained, taking the flower and awkwardly tying the stem around her ring finger, "I wanted to get this."

She glanced at her finger, before suddenly laughing. "What?"

He scowled, cradling her hand between his larger ones, embarrassed. "It's not supposed to be funny."

"I don't understand what you mean by this," she giggled, motioning her hand, "What are you trying to give me?"

"It's a promise," he couldn't help the pout, looking away, "I promise you that...one day I'm going to take you away from here, and show you snow, and do all the other stuff that will make you happy."

She went quiet, and when he looked back at her, she was smiling softly. She leaned over, kissing his cheek gently, before resting her hand against her chest, over her heart.

"Thank you," she murmured, "But you already make me happy."

He flushed, and turned away, trying to hide the color on his cheeks. She laughed again, moving over to him and leaning over his back, playfully teasing his shyness.


	6. Never Let Me Go

**Never Let Me Go**

The sunset was a mix of reds and golds, and as they watched, deep violets and blues began to creep in. The sun reflected on the water, and distantly, he could hear the waves below crashing against the cliff.

"This is a good spot," he said, and she nodded, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's pretty," she said quietly, "the ocean."

He suddenly got to his feet, and she blinked at him. "Come on," he said, holding out his hand to her, "Let's move closer."

She hesitated a moment, but at his urging, she took his hand and he helped her to her feet. He lead her closer to the edge of the valley, looking down over the lip of the cliff at the water below. She hung back, making sure to keep distance between herself and the drop.

"Let's jump in," he suggested with a flutter of excitement, and he saw her eyes widen. She shook her head quickly, moving to pull back, but he kept his hold on her hand, "Come on, it'll be fun. I'm sure it's not too cold."

"I don't want to, I...I don't swim," she told him, trying to pull him away from the edge again, but he squeezed her hand, trying to be reassuring.

"It's fine, come on," he promised, taking a few steps back, and she seemed to relax a minute before he began to run, talking her along with him.

"No! Ikki, please, I-!"

He jumped, and he felt her nails dig into his hand. They fell for what only felt like seconds before they hit the water, and he felt their hands break apart. He quickly surfaced, unable to hold back the bubble of laughter that worked it's way out of his throat. He looked around, trying to find where she had come up. The rush quickly drained as he realized he could only see water. He took a deep breath, diving into the water again, looking frantically for any sign of her. There was a ripple of color deeper down in the murkiness, and he swam towards it, catching her arm as it reached upwards. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled up up with him, body straining with her added weight. They broke the surface and he gasped for air, and he heard her coughing and heaving beside him. She clung to him as he paddled them to the rocky shore, weakly pulling her out before dropping hard onto the ground, trying to catch his breath. She was on all fours, hacking up water and he could she her body trembling. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, until he finally broke the silence with a feeble word.

"...Sorry."

Her arms gave out and she dropped onto her side, taking in a deep breath before rolling onto her back. He watched her for a minute, waiting for the anger he knew he deserved, until she replied.

"I never learned how to swim."

That was all she said, and after a beat, he couldn't help the awkward laughter that erupted from his throat. He knew what she said wasn't actually funny, and that moment was a terrible time to be snickering like someone just told a joke, but he couldn't stop.

"Yeah, I figured."

She sat up, and began wringing out the water from her dress. They didn't say anything again for awhile, but he spoke up once more.

"I really am sorry."

"I know," she said, pulling her hair into a bundle and twisting, rivulets of seawater running down her arm. She met his gaze, and he looked down, abashed, "It's okay. Thank you, for saving me."

The sun had almost completely set, and he finally got to his feet, his clothes soggy and heavy. He walked over to her and reached out, and she took his hand, standing as well.

"I'll walk you back," he said, and she nodded, lacing their fingers together.


	7. Between Two Lungs

**Between Two Lungs**

The sun was almost overbearingly hot. It beat down on his back as he waited for her, eyes trained the crest of the hill that lead down towards the village. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and when he glanced up again, she was there, slowly climbing the incline into the valley.

He slid down from his perch on the rocks, going to meet her. She smiled and waved, and he returned it.

"I'm sorry," she said, covering a yawn with her hand, "I was just finally able to get away."

"It's fine," he told her, giving her a curious look, "You look tired. What happened?"

She blinked, then shrugged a bit, "I was up all night sorting grain, and then I had to do my morning chores too."

"Is your master home?" he asked, and she shook her head, "Then you should go back and sleep! You didn't have to come."

"But I wanted to," she said simply, "Besides, if he came back and caught me sleeping, I'd be punished."

He didn't reply, though his teeth clenched and he felt that familiar anger raise up in his chest. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her to their usual spot in the valley. He waited for her to sit down before he dropped down himself, putting his hands on his knees and looking at her expectantly.

"Are you going to finish that story?" he asked, and she giggled before nodding.

"Sure."

He laid back on the grass, getting comfortable. He glanced at her and saw her beginning to make a chain of flower as she usually did, and when she looked at him, he indicated that he was ready.

"Where did I leave off..." she hummed, "Oh, right! The hero was stuck in the garden maze." She began to speak, and he relaxed, content to hear her talk.

After awhile, her voice began to slow, and when he turned his head to look at her, she was covering a yawn, her lids heavy with exhaustion.

"Hey," he spoke up and she jumped a bit, blinking awake and giving him a dazed smile.

"Hm?"

He pat the spot on the grass next to him, "Come on, lay down."

She began to protest, but he took her arm, pulling her closer. She nearly fell on top of him, and they flushed at the sudden closeness of their faces. After a moment she sat back, and he moved over a bit, before indicating to the spot again.

"You can lay down for a little bit, it's okay."

She didn't speak, only nodded, and she carefully laid down on her back beside him, cheeks still pink and eyes trained to the sky. He laid back as well, and after a moment he heard her shift beside him. He turned his head and caught her staring at him, making her flush darker again. They simply looked at each other for awhile, before he turned onto his side.

"You should get some sleep for a bit," he said, and she nodded, before moving onto her side as well.

"Yeah."

He took her hand from where it rested on the grass, lacing their fingers together. She squeezed it, and he returned the gesture. Her eyes closed and he watched her, settling comfortably on the ground beside her.


	8. Breaking Over Me

**Breaking Over Me**

"You failed Ikki!" Guilty's gravely voice echoed across the compound, "How many times have I told you? You must hate! You must use your anger and defeat me!"

He wiped the blood he felt dripping down his chin, before staggering to his feet, "I'm sorry Master."

"Fool!" Guilty roared as he swung his fist.

He didn't have time to dodge the blow, and he felt something break before he passed out.

When he woke up, the sky above was dark. He carefully turned his head, looking around. Guilty was gone, and he was left on the ground where he had fallen. He coughed, and there was a wetness to it that scared him. He sat up too fast, making his head spin, and he had to close his eyes a moment to get them to focus. His face throbbed, and when he touched it, he felt a patchwork of fresh and dried blood smeared on his cheeks. He got to his feet, taking in a deep breath before beginning to walk.

He doubted she would be there. She knew that he couldn't always make it to their meetings, and he knew the same of her. It was late anyway, she had to return to her master's house eventually. She wasn't allowed out late, he had seen the rope burn on her wrists each morning. He knew she wasn't going to be there, but he went anyway. He had to see.

The trek felt longer. Maybe it was because he was exhausted, maybe it was because he couldn't really breathe properly through his nose. He just kept walking.

When he climbed over the crest of the hill, he was sure he was half delusional. She was there, her back to him as she looked at the flowers. But when he stumbled over a rock in his path, she looked up and he knew she was real.

Her eyes widened when she realized, and she quickly got to her feet, rushing over to him. "Are you alright?"

"You waited here?" he asked, voice dry and coarse. She blinked a moment, before giving him a half smile.

"Yes."

She took his hand and lead him into the field, setting him down beside the stream nearby, before soaking her handkerchief in the water in order to wipe the blood and dirt from his face. When she dabbed at his nose, he flinched, and she made a face.

"Your nose is broken."

He shuffled a bit closer to the water, looking at his rippled reflection. He grimaced, and sat back again, letting her resume her treatment. "Hopefully you don't like me for my looks."

She pressed her lips together, shoulders shaking a moment before she burst out laughing. He smiled at her, and she tried to reign in her giggles, but failed, going back to cleaning his face while letting out little snickers and snorts.

"I think I cleaned off the worst of the blood," she told him, and he reached up, gingerly touching his nose. She watched him, curious, and he took a deep breath before snapping the cartridge back in place. She flinched, and her humorous mood was gone. "Are you alright?"

He tilted his head back, keeping the new trickle of blood in check. After a minute he nodded, and he sensed her relax.

"Hurts like hell."

She moved, and when he looked, she was rising her kerchief if the stream. She wrung it out a bit before going back to his side and placing it on his nose. The cool cloth felt good, and he held it there as she sat back down.

"I didn't expect you to be here," he told her, and she glanced up, "It's so late."

"I...had a feeling," she said to him, playing with the hem of her dress, "So I...kind of broke out."

"Broke out?"

She reached into her sash and pulled out a broken piece of pottery, the edges still sharp. "I cut the rope that he ties me up with at night."

"Just because you had a feeling?" he asked in disbelief, "Will you be okay?" She shrugged.

"I don't know."

His brows came together, and he was about to speak when she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and taking his hand in hers.

"I'm glad I came to see you."

He considered finishing his thought, but after a moment dismissed it. He put his head against hers, and sighed.

"Yeah."


	9. Far Away

**Far Away**

Her voice was soft as she sang, and he was content to listen, eyes closed as he relaxed on the grass. There was a low rumble in the distance, and she stopped, the air silent for a moment before she spoke again.

"I think it's going to rain."

He opened his eyes, and they sky above him was murky. He sat up, and there was another roll of thunder.

"I think you're right," he said, looking to her with a twinge of disappointment, "I guess I should take you back."

"It's not raining just yet," she reasoned, and he could tell she was just as reluctant to leave as he was, "Maybe just a few more minutes."

There was a flash of lightning, and thunder clapped loudly in their ears. He stood up quickly, grabbing her hand and helping her to her feet. "Come on," he said, tugging on their joined hands. They began to run, but they had barely made it out of the valley before it began to pour. She stumbled, and he caught her awkwardly with one arm before she fell, and she smiled at him apologetically as she straightened. He smiled back before he began to run again, keeping her close to his side.

They were already soaked before they had even made it to the road that lead to the village, and they had to pause to catch their breath. His bangs hung heavily in his eyes, and when he looked to her, hers was flat against her head, her dress was plastered to her skin. He glanced around, remembering an outcropping of rock in the area that might provide them with some kind of reprieve.

"This way," he said, guiding her along, and she followed him without complaint. They found the little shelter, a slab of rock resting against the mountain at an angle, creating a little pocket for them to hide in. He directed her underneath the rock before following her in, looking back out at the storm.

"It doesn't look like it's going to let up for a while," he said, and sat down. She turned away a bit, lifting her skirt to wring out some of the water.

"C-Can...Can you..." she spoke up, and he looked at her, but she flushed and looked away. "Nevermind!"

"What?" he gave her a look, confused, "Do you need something?"

She hesitated, before trying again. "L-Look away for a minute, I...I want to get the water out of my dress."

He blinked, then went red, realizing the implication. "U-Uh, yeah! S...Sure..." he turned his back to her, covering his eyes for added modesty. He heard her dress slip off with a wet sound, and then there was the sound of water dripping out of the fabric as she twisted it. He heard rustling for a moment, and then she spoke up.

"...Okay, it's...alright now."

He uncovered his eyes, but didn't turn around just yet, still flustered. She sat down beside him, and finally, he looked over at her. She was playing with her hair, running her fingers through it to loosen knots.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, and he nodded. She looked out at the rain, and he followed her gaze. "Summer storm."

"Yeah," he nodded. She shuffled closer, and he felt her rest her head against his shoulder, her hair still damp and skin cold against his. He put an arm around her and pulled her closer, and she made a noise of surprise. "You'll get sick if you're cold," he said awkwardly, too embarrassed to meet her eyes.

She let out a content sigh, and nodded once.

"Yeah."


	10. Trim

**Trim**

"Your hair is getting long," she said, lightly running her fingers through it. He looked at her through the corner of his eye, cocking an eyebrow.

"So?"

"I can cut it for you," she offered, playing with a long lock right above his ear, "Doesn't it get in your way?" she asked, blowing at his bangs from where they hung low over his eyes. He wrinkled his nose, making a face at her.

"Have you cut hair before?"

"I used to cut my brothers' hair," she shrugged. He was tempted to ask her more about her family, but he knew she wouldn't. She never did.

He sighed. "Fine."

She smiled. "I'll bring some scissors tomorrow."

"Hold still," she ordered, trying to tie the sheet around his neck. He squirmed, trying to pull away as she tugged the fabric too tight, "Do you want to be covered in hair?"

"I'm not wearing a giant bib."

"It's a sheet."

"It's a bib."

She exhaled slowly through her nose, before finally tying the linen in a secure knot. He grumbled, but eventually sat still.

"Close your eyes," she said, and he did as she told, holding his breath a bit as she combed her fingers through his hair gently, before picking up a piece and beginning to cut. All he heard was the squeak of the scissors as she cut his hair. The blades were dull, and tugged, but he kept quiet as she worked, not willing to risk the chance to startle her into snipping of one of his ears.

She moved, and he felt her breath against his face as she picked up his bangs, carefully trimming them away from his eyes. He noticed she was humming under her breath, and he finally spoke up.

"How's it look?"

"Fine," was all she said, "Now hold still."

He closed his mouth and he felt her blow stray hair from his face, before gently dusting off what remained. She pulled away, and he felt her run her fingers through his hair again, an there was an occasional finishing cuts of the scissors.

"It's done," she finally told him, and he opened his eyes. She smiled, and he pulled off the sheet, dropping it on the grass before going to check his reflection in the stream. She followed behind him, glancing over his shoulder as he inspected her work, scratching at his hair and turning his head this way and that.

"The front is so short," he said, looking back at her, "Shorter than it was before I got here."

"I think it looks better on you," she said, and he gave her a skeptical look. She laughed, and leaned down, giving his forehead a quick peck, "I can see your face better."

He flushed, looking away again. He absently picked off stray hairs from his pants, unable to meet her eyes.

"...Thanks."

She giggled, and crouched down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Of course."


	11. Love Tenfold

**Love Tenfold**

"You're sure you're not going to get caught?" he pressed. She nodded.

"He got drunk; he won't be walking up tonight."

He sat down on the grass, and she sat beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. He looked at the stars, picking out constellations out of habit. She spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled.

"Thank you."

He turned his head to blink at her. "For what?"

"For being here," she murmured, looking down, "I...I know it's wrong, but I'm glad you came here. I'm glad I met you."

He blushed. He couldn't help it. He quickly looked back to the sky, tongue tied and face hot. She sighed softly, scooting closer, her hair tickling under his chin.

"...M-Me too."

There was a gust of wind, and he involuntarily let out a shudder. She shifted, titling her head up a moment. "Are you cold?"

"It's fine," he shook his head, but she moved, sitting up and reaching for the small bag she had with her. She pulled out a thin blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"There."

He reached out, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close again. He shared the blanket with her, keeping his arm around her waist while she resumed her place against his side. He let out a noise of contentment, and she echoed it.

"Do you believe in destiny?" she spoke again, and Ikki hummed.

"What do you mean?" he rest his head on top of hers, closing his eyes. She considered a moment before answering.

"I think that, maybe, we were supposed to met," she whispered, and he could hear the sheepish tone in her voice, "That...it was more than good luck."

"That's a good idea," he agreed after a moment of thought. She giggled once, getting more comfortable in her spot against him, "Yeah...I like that."

"I love you."

It was said suddenly, out of the blue. They both stiffened, and he turned his head slowly to look at her. She looked up and he felt his face color again, as hers did the same.

"Uh," he gaped, because that's all his brain could come up with. She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide her blush. He shifted his eyes around, rubbing at his neck awkwardly. He finally turned back towards her, and nudged her. She peeked from between her fingers, and he rest his forehead against hers, holding her gaze. His heart was a furious thudding in his ears, and when he spoke, his tongue felt clumsy and his mouth was try. "I...too."

Her eyes widened, and he wasn't sure how, but he colored even darker. He was sure all the blood in his body was in his face at this point. She lowered her hands, and then she tilted her head ever-so slightly, pecking her lips against his. He swallowed thickly, and she covered her face again, making a noise of embarrassment. His arm was still around her waist, and after a moment he pulled her closer, resting his head against hers again. She leaned into him again, and pulled the blanket tighter around them.

"The stars are bright."

"Y-Yeah."


	12. Whole Hearted

**Whole Hearted**

He hadn't seen her in three days.

He haunted their usual meeting places, making slow, never ending rotations in hopes of catching her. He never seemed to. He was distracted, he knew, because even Guilt noticed his apathy, and punished him for it. His ribs still hurt from that particular incident.

It was after waiting for her at the road on the fourth day that he decided to go to her master's house.

The road was still unfamiliar to him, having kept himself mostly to the volcanic lands Guilty claimed as his own. Yet he knew she lived a bit outside the village, and when he finally came across a small hut, he knew it had to be hers. The property was quiet except for the sound of humming coming from the back of the house, and he crept along the sides, trying to maintain his level of secrecy. When he turned the corner into the back lot, he saw her pulling water from the well, red welts on her legs where her dress didn't reach, and a large hat, obviously too big for her, on her head.

"Esmeralda," he whispered coarsely, and she dropped the bucket of water.

She spun around, eyes wide and he saw her grip the sides of the hat, pull it down until it almost covered her eyes. He blinked and moved to her side, confused.

"Esmeralda, why haven't you come?" he asked, and she let out a sound like a hiccup.

"Why are you here?" she hissed, "If my master comes back and sees you-!"

"Why didn't you come see me?" he pressed, "Are you mad? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, now go!" she said pushing at his chest, "Quick, before he comes back!"

"But why?" he hated the note of pain in his voice, but he stood his ground, and her attempts at pushing him were feeble and useless, "What happened?"

"I'll tell you soon," she assured him, "Please, go!"

"Why did he beat you this time?" he gently took her hands, looking down at the bruises on her legs, "And why are you wearing that stupid hat?"

She shook her head, and he could see tears welling up. He frowned, and reached up, snatching the hat off her head. Esmeralda screamed and tried to grab it back but he held it out of reach, staring at her in shock. Her hair was chopped at various spots, one side woefully uneven and the other in jagged layers. She burst into tears, covering her head with her arms as she knelt down, shrinking into herself. That seemed to break the spell and he fell to his knees beside her, gripping her shoulders.

"Why did he cut your hair?"

"S-Someone wanted to b-buy me!" she managed through weepy gasps, "So h-he tried to m-make me look as bad a...as possible, and c-cut my hair!"

"Why didn't he just say no?" he asked angrily but she didn't reply, chest heaving with hiccups and sobs. "Is that why you didn't come?"

"I-I didn't want you t-t...to see me like this," she gulped for air, "I so-sorry-y!"

"I don't care about about how bad your hair looks!" he said angrily, and she began to cry again, "I-I mean that it doesn't matter to me what you look like, I just wanted to see you!"

"I wanted to wa-wait until it grew out a bit more," she whimpered, wiping her face on her dress, "No one would want to see me like this!"

"You should have told me," he argued, "I thought...I thought you hated me, or were hurt, or..."

She shook her head, and he rubbed her back, trying to stop the tears. He stood up for a moment, fetching the bucket and dropping it into the well, pulling up some water for her. She took a few slow drinks before splashing some on her face, and after a long moment, her breathing began to calm. He sat beside her and squeezed her shoulder, watching her face carefully.

"Are you okay?"

"...Yeah," she said slowly, and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he shook his head. "...I still wish you would have come."

She reached up to touch a choppy lock of her hair, sniffling. "I look awful."

"You don't," he swore. She gave him a look. He shrugged, feeling particularly cowed. "Is there any way to fix it?"

"...It's so short," fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, and he shifted awkwardly, unsure of what to do. She was quiet, before she straightened a bit, and he looked at her in surprise. She went into the hut, and he heard her searching for a moment before she returned, holding a pair of scissors and a small mirror. "Don't look, okay? Not until I'm done," she instructed, and he nodded, before turning around and facing the chicken coop. The scissors squeaked and he heard her sniffle a few times as she cut. After what felt like an hour, the noises stopped, and he heard her sigh. "...Okay, you can look."

He turned around, and blinked, trying to get used to the short cut she was now sporting. She looked at him expectantly, and when he didn't say anything, her face fell.

"I look awful."

"N-No!" he waved his hands, "You look fine. You look like you."

She hesitated, before murmuring out a soft, "Really?"

"Promise," he nodded, going to take her hand. "It's...cute?" She gave him a flat look, and he tried a smile. Her lips twitched, and she give a tiny smile back, resigned.

"Thank you."

"Come on," he urged, squeezing her hand, "Let's go see the flowers."


	13. Each Breath Screaming

**Each Breath Screaming**

"Ikki! Ikki!"

He woke up with the taste of blood in his mouth. He sat up quickly, and his head spun, eyes struggling to focus as he looked around in the dim room.

"Ikki!" her voice shook with sobs and he turned his head to see her at his side, cheeks streaked with tears and nose running.

"Esmeralda?"

"I"m so glad you're awake," she hiccuped, wrapping her arms around his neck and embracing him tightly, hiding her face in his neck, "You've been unconscious for hours." He flinched as she held tighter, and she quickly pulled away, tears welling up again. "I'm sorry."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, inspecting the cellar Guilty gave him as quarters, "I told you not to come here!"

Esmeralda shook her head, and he saw the blood matted in her hair at her temple. He grabbed her shoulders, looking at her closer, and she looked away in shame. "Guilty found you."

"I...I saw you training and he attacked you and then you weren't moving, so I..." she bit her lip, "I asked him to let me take you here so I could wrap your wounds, that's all."

"I told you not to worry about me when I'm training!" Ikki reminded her, "Guilty let you go this one time, I don't think he'll do it again. You shouldn't still be here."

"But I had to make sure you woke up," she pressed, "I couldn't...If you were gone Ikki, I don't know what I'd do..."

"I'm fine now," he sighed, "Now go back, quickly." She shook her head. "What? Why?"

"Ikki, I can't bear it," she whispered. He blinked at her in shock. "I hate...I hate seeing you hurt. I hate that you have to go through this, every day."

"You know why," he mumbled, and she bit back a whimper, "Soon, I promise. I'll get the Cloth and then I'll leave. I'll take you with me, and we'll go somewhere safe."

She shook her head, biting her lip, "It hurts to see you in pain."

"I can handle it," he said, making her sniff loudly and hold back more tears, "I know it'll be worth it."

"I don't want you to go away from me," she mumbled softly, covering her face in her hands. "I don't want to be alone again."

"I won't leave you alone," he swore, taking her wrists and pulling her hands from her face. She looked up and he hesitated, before quickly pecking her lips. "I won't leave you behind."

"Ikki!"

They froze, staring in sudden fear at the shadow that loomed in the entryway.

"Ikki!"

"Hide!" he hissed, jumping to his feet and shoving her behind some old pots in the corner of the cellar, pushing her head down out of sight. "I'll distract him and you run!"

"Ikki, you're slacking off!" Guilty boomed as he stomped down the cellar steps, "How long do you plan to be on this island! You'll never become a Saint at this rate!"

"I will!" he said defiantly, moving away from the pots and Guilty followed him, "I'm going to get that Cloth and become a Saint!"

"Useless!" Guilty roared, swinging his fist. Ikki tired to block it but it connected with his side, and he cried out in pain. He heard her scream and Guilty's head suddenly turned towards the sound. He looked, and she stood only a few feet from the steps, rooted to the spot. Guilty moved toward her, and she threw her arms up over her head, cowering. He grit his teeth, and moved, throwing a punch as hard as he could. His fist connected, and Guilty's head snapped to the side.

"Run!" he shouted at her, and he saw her legs shake before she broke out into a run, stumbling up the stairs. He turned just in time to see Guilty's leg come up and connect with his side, sending him flying into the wall. He groaned, gripping the spot where Guilty had kicked, and looked up as he walked slowly closer.

"I hope that was worth it Ikki!" he growled, and he swallowed thickly.

"It was."


	14. Cage of Bone

**Cage of Bone**

Every scar made the skin that much harder to break. Each snap of bone or crack of cartilage made his resolve that much stronger. He was broken down to scraps and he built himself back up, tuning his body into the instrument he needed. She was the opposite. Each bruise on her skin made her shrink back from outstretched hands, every raised word caused her to flinch, and he saw the instinct to flee flare up in her eyes. She took the black eyes, the twisted arms and scabbed knees and they slowly ate her from the inside out.

He touched her hair and she jumped, arm raising up in a defensive gesture. He looked at her in sympathy and she turned away, holding her arms and bowing her head.

"Your hair is growing out," he said.

"I'm sorry," she replied.

"For what?"

She let out a sound of anguish, and he clenched his hands, unsure of what to do. The tears came then, rolling down her cheeks in fat drops, cutting lines in the dirt and grime. "I'm pathetic."

He shook his head, and he carefully rest his fingers on her shoulder. "You're not."

"You'd never hurt me," she said, almost to herself, and she turned towards him, "How can you stand me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," he gripped her shoulders and she hiccuped, cowering. "Esmeralda, I'm sorry."

He felt her force herself to relax, unhunching her shoulders and raising her head. He loosened his hold and slowly moved, resting his forehead against hers. She didn't tense, and he felt the knot his stomach had become loosen.

"You would never hurt me," she echoed, and closed her eyes.

He held her hands, thumbs running over callouses and cuts as he gave her promises and vows. He spun her stories of the world they'd see and the life they would make, escaping the violence and pain and misery. He kissed her lips in a seal and she wept into it, body trembling. He held her close and ached as she flinched, knowing they sat on borrowed time.

The fear was rotting her.


End file.
